Fait Accompli
by jenthetrulysly
Summary: Discarding the pen to the side, he pulled open his desk drawer to grab another one, before he found himself staring at the letter of resignation he had written, still in the perfectly written envelope addressed to Steve. A prequel of sorts to the episode 'Year of the Horse' which may be read as a stand alone story.


_**Fait Accompli**_

By jenthetrulysly

_April 30, 1979._

Sighing, Danny threw down the statements he had been reading on the table before using his left hand to rub his eyes tiredly. The statements were all different and there was no way that they could be corroborated or verified. They had too many facts, but useless facts. The page in front of him was full of useless scribbles. A mild stabbing pain started behind his right eye and he groaned – it was going to turn into a fully-fledged migraine by the end of the afternoon.

He was in his forties and not as young as he used to be. About a year ago his hair had begun to go grey and sometimes when he woke up his joints ached, and his muscles were stiff. All of the injuries – from being shot, stabbed and beaten almost to death – they all surfaced, sometimes even at once. The doctors had warned him that he would be facing arthritis amongst many other unpleasant things if he didn't begin to take things easy. He had noticed that gradually, it had taken his body longer and longer before he could fully heal, and often in the clutches of medicated introspection he would wonder if he would ever heal.

Dan resumed his analysis of the facts, continuing on the timeline of events of Five-O's current case. As he was writing down the details of the prostitute's deaths, the black ink pen he had been using ran out. Scribbling madly at the corner of the page, he only succeeded in pressing zigzag patterns into the paper. Discarding the pen to the side, he pulled open his desk drawer to grab another one, before he found himself staring at the letter of resignation he had written, still in the perfectly written envelope addressed to Steve.

* * *

Out of all the things that Five-O had faced over the years, there was nothing in his arsenal of experience to prepare him for the tough battle ahead. Life was for the most part back to normal, meaning that the cases piled on high and fast until there was nothing for it but to throw oneself into the work, leaving no time for any other thoughts. However, there was always the niggling suspicion, the worry that one day whatever had been programmed into Danny's brain might be triggered and he was going to kill McGarrett. The island's most pre-eminent psychiatry experts had been unable to locate what was the trigger to the subliminal order but they had assured him that it was long dormant. They had theorized that it was light reflecting off some mirror like surface but this was only a theory – they hadn't even been able to locate the mysterious surface or the specific type of light that would trigger it.

Danny was physically fine but there was something a bit off about the younger man. It made Steve extremely nervous but the doctor had warned that there was a high possibility of unforeseen secondary effects from the brainwashing. Still, he was glad to have his friend back on the team and he was determined to help Dan every step along the way as they dealt with this - whatever it was - together.

He looked up from the paperwork he had been pouring over for most of the morning, expecting to see Danny perched on the corner of his desk or else on one of the two high-back white chairs in front of him. With a start he realised that it had been a long time since Danny had sat on what Steve had come to regard as his Second-in-Command's corner. Even now, he unconsciously kept that part of his desk clear. Shaking his head, he was disturbed by the realization that Danno often avoided coming into this office.

When had _this_ started? Steve's brow furrowed as he concentrated on the question. He had first started sensing some trouble in his younger friend… he guessed it would have been after the death of Chin Ho Kelly.

Things hadn't been the same since and looking back at it Steve was ashamed at how simply self-centred he had been. He had been so absorbed by his own feelings of grief and self-blame over his part in the detective's death. He knew that Dan and Chin had been good friends – and since the tragic event he had thrown himself headlong into work both to distract himself from the – now residual – feelings of guilt and to redouble his efforts into taming the island's criminal element. Bring down the types of people who killed Chin and it would be a wholesome genuflect to the memory of his fallen detective. His guilty conscience would have been absolved.

The rational part of his mind deduced that this was the way to go but the often shut down, repressed and ignored emotional side – his instincts – told him that this was just another attempt to run away from the bigger issue at hand. Cracking down on organised crime was not going to bring the barrel-chested detective back nor was it going to mend the rapidly growing chasm between himself and the last remaining member of the ohana which had formed over the years. Admitting that left a bitter taste in his mouth, causing the dark haired detective to grab the mug of long cold coffee and take a sip, grimacing at the feelings of sadness and sorrow that he had done his best to ignore well up. He drained his cup of coffee until it was empty. Deciding that he needed a fresh cup, the dark haired detective slowly stood up and grabbed the empty mug before he headed out to the coffee pot, only to discover it was empty. He went through the motions of preparing a fresh batch before stepping back to continue with this introspection as his eyes gazed around the office, stopping on Dan, who was looking down at something on his desk – more paperwork, most likely.

Now that he was looking for it, the lead detective noticed the defeated slump to the other man's shoulders. There was a pinched look to his expression, and those clear blue eyes had hardened over the years, the vibrancy dimmed. The once too youthful face was lined and Dan's mouth suddenly pressed into a grim line before the detective hung up the phone. Steve watched as his friend sighed, rubbing a tired hand through his curls before throwing the pen down. Dan looked up and their eyes met, Steve completely unprepared to see the weariness that greeted him, the tense set of his shoulders. Feeling a bit like a deer caught in headlights, he raised his empty mug and tilted his head questioningly, to which Dan merely nodded. McGarrett then pulled Dan's mug off the dish rack before pouring two steaming mugs of the percolated coffee. He paused to add sugar into Dan's before pausing, realizing that his Second-In-Command took his coffee straight and black, just like Steve did. Somewhere along the line he stopped taking sugar with his coffee, Steve hadn't even noticed.

_My God, what has happened here?_ Steve wondered how he could have missed the slow and gradual change in his friend from the cheerful, optimistic young man he had known all those years ago. Dan was still one of the best detectives he knew, but the youthful zeal that had drawn him to his Second-In-Command all those years ago was no longer there. In its place, there was a careful attention to detail and well, it wasn't quite cynicism but it wasn't very far off from it either. He should have been proud that his advice had sunk in and that Danny had learned to reign in the worst of his emotions and stopped bleeding, but what had been the price? It had been the very sense of compassion that had defined him. The yielding influence to Steve's yang energy but that wasn't the worst of it.

Carefully making his way across the office, Steve placed Dan's steaming mug of coffee in front of his friend before settling down into one of the narrow, straight backed chairs that sat in front of his friend's desk.

"Thanks," was all that was said between the two men before Dan took hold of the steaming mug and took a sip. Mirroring his friend, Steve picked up his mug and drank too, all the more to give him something to do with his hands and to not notice how they had nothing to say to each other.

If he had to pin this on something, it would have been on the whole brainwashing incident with the couriers. It had been five months since the incident with Marlene Kahuana. They had a functioning working relationship before then, but since the McGarrett observed that Dan had been careful to maintain a distance between them. The late night talks in the offices over some saimins, the working lunches… they were all a thing of the past. He wasn't exactly being ignored but Steve had the feeling that they were talking at each other, rather than to each other. He suspected that Dan simply didn't trust himself not to do anything rash or dangerous around the lead detective, and that at the core was that he simply didn't trust himself. It wasn't a warranted concern but neither was it _un_warranted.

He could feel Dan watch him wearily, waiting for the explanation as to why he suddenly came into his cubicle like this, seemingly for no reason. McGarrett grimaced - things had reached a point where he only came in if he wanted something from his subordinate. It was then that he realized how badly strained their friendship was, the camaraderie a thing of the past. "Any luck on finding Skerritt?" Steve finally managed before taking another sip of his coffee.

"No," Danny replied before handing the whole writing pad on which he had been scribbling over to his boss as he continued. "Word on the wireless is that he's bunking down, waiting for the heat from this whole Makuano business to ease up."

The lead detective scanned the writing on the pad, his brow furrowing at the long list of leads that had seemingly dried up. Greg Skerritt had disappeared into thin air and no one, not even his wife, knew where he was. "Keep pushing at it, Danno." Steve encouraged, heading towards the door. "We'll find him, we've just got to push harder." He didn't give Dan any chance to reply, instead quickly making his way back to his office, passing by Duke's cubicle where the former HPD Sergeant was finishing his report on the Ling case. He had insisted the Hawaiian take some time off for his injuries to heal – in closing up the Ling case Lukela had suffered a broken arm and a very nasty gash above his right eye. Duke had merely shook his head, saying that Danny was going to drown in the work unless they did something. He had thought the remark weird at the time but in lieu of all of the realizations of the morning it made sense.

Five-O was meant to be a four-member team, often five-member at times. His reluctance to replace Chin meant more work for Duke and Danny, who were doing their best to keep up but with the removal of the Vashon family as the head criminal element on the islands. It now meant that many two-bit hoods and other organised crime syndicates were vying for the coveted top position. Five-O had their work cut out staying on top of all of these attempts and in light of the ever-increasing workload, there were plenty of other reasons in support of hiring a new member of the team. However, to do so would be an admission that Chin was finally well and truly gone and for some reason Steve was unable to come to terms with that. Instead, he had chosen to put the issue to the side and return to it only when he had the time to. There was also a very high chance that a new recruit would introduce drama and tension into the fold and that was the last thing that he needed. So, he decided that he would hold off on appointing a new detective until he found the right person.

He returned to his office and stayed there straight through lunch and most of the afternoon, opting to put the tedious paperwork to the side and focus on the Skerritt case in hopes of finding a new angle to play it from. The team had combed through the facts inch by inch and were unable to locate where the fugitive could possibly be. They were turning up more dead ends than leads, and more questions were being raised than answers. However, his attention was not solely on the case and the rest of the afternoon was spent thinking how he was going to resolve the deeper issues of trust between himself and his Second-In-Command. Like any problem, if he examined the set of facts closely enough, the solution would always be there.

* * *

More times than not, Danny had felt an unsettling urge to actually inflict harm onto his best friend. He had been able to control it, stop it, but the urge grew stronger each time he came near Steve, each time they were in the immediate vicinity of each other. He had taken to avoiding his best friend, the action hurting him so, because he could see how it hurt the lead detective. McGarrett might wear a stoic mask to hide his emotions, but being the man's Second-In-Command for the better part of the last decade or so had taught Dan how to read the subtle nuances in the man's armor, what a sigh or a turn of that prim mouth meant.

He wasn't sure what to do about these negative feelings towards Steve. Lately, whenever he caught sight of the dark haired man, he felt an intense hatred toward his friend. There was no basis for these feelings and they deeply unnerved him. Dan's hands would unconsciously curl into fists and he would fight to avoid gritting his teeth. Was this a residual symptom of the brainwashing? To this day he thought he had shared an evening with that Kahuana woman until everyone told him that was a lie. He had the physical memories and could recall the dark fall of her hair and the deep brown of her eyes… were those memories fake?

The only thing he was certain was that something changed following his meeting with the Asian woman. He felt unsure of himself and wary of his self-control. Danny felt that if he didn't control himself then he might very well harm Steve one day. That perhaps one day, he would finally carry out the mission programmed into his mind and kill McGarrett. He was nervous and anxious – he didn't know what would trigger the memory and this made him paranoid, to the point that McGarrett had arranged for him to take some time off on Tuesday afternoons to get some counselling.

The meetings with the shrink were awkward and useless. They circled around the same issues of self-blame, of anxiety and relaxation techniques. No, the problem was that he simply didn't trust himself because he was a walking, ticking time bomb. Since he could no longer trust himself, he couldn't perform his duty as Second-In-Command to the best of his ability, the fear of something triggering the brainwashing very real, always lurking near the surface.

Steve still might have been able to trust him, and that meant a lot, but he couldn't trust himself.

* * *

Feeling like he needed some air, the lead detective grabbed his mug and stepped outside onto the lanai and out into the afternoon sunshine.

The fresh air always had a calming, invigorating effect on the dark haired man, and often helped him resolve issues or find the proverbial missing key to unlock the entire case. As he squinted out into the late afternoon sun, he wondered what he could do to resolve this issue of trust. The fact was, Danny didn't trust himself around Steve because of the fear that something might activate the buried trigger in his mind to shoot Steve and in one moment kill the head of Five-O. Normally a man of self-control and restraint, the unfathomable workings of the mind were a mystery to McGarrett, with the jargon laden explanations Doc provided them doing more to set them both on edge rather than reassure them. The subconscious was even more of a mystery, thus whatever seed that devious Kahuana woman had planted there, no one knew exactly the impact it had on Danny.

Despite his own apprehensions, Steve had tried to be there for his friend, especially in the immediate aftermath of the attempted shooting. He had clutched Danny in his arms as terrible tremors overtook his body as he fought off the chemicals in his system and the programmed message his mind was sending him – telling him to kill Steve McGarrett, before the curly haired detective had succumbed to exhaustion. He had been there as self-disgust and loathing overwhelmed the younger detective, so much so that the man was physically ill. In light of the higher rate of shootings and homicides over the past few weeks, Danny's case had been deemed as a non-serious priority and due to a lack of life threatening injury or illness, the curly haired detective had been sent home with an appointment to talk to a shrink about what had happened to him and a mild sedative should the detective have trouble sleeping. Despite the rough night and terrible chills and tremors, Dan was back to work the very next day.

He remembered Dan's face, pale and anxious, sweat soaking through the head of sandy curls, his breathing harsh and ragged as he attempted to swallow back the bile before giving into another round of painful dry retching as Steve rubbed his back. He remembered Danny wanting to take some of the sedatives and just sleep, sleep until the morning came and until he could face himself for what he had almost done.

After retrieving two of the white pills from the bottle and a glass of cool water, he watched as Dan took them before he helped his still visibly distraught friend into bed. "Sleep now, Danno. You need the rest."

He remembered sitting on a chair he dragged in from Dan's lounge room, telephone in hand in case there was any adverse effect or if Dan needed immediate medical attention during the night.

"Steve," the mention of his name was no more than a whisper, but it was loud like thunder in the otherwise silence of the room.

"Yeah, Danno?"

"What if I had killed you?" The question was curt and to the point, with the last few words slurred as Dan tried to fight the sedative, his need for an answer stronger than the overwhelming pull of sleep. "What if I had… I…"

"There's no point in worrying about any of that now." Steve cut across firmly, "You didn't and that's that. Now get some sleep. We have a busy day ahead tomorrow."

There was a sob before, "But I almost did." Dan's voice broke. He looked up to see Dan's head flung to the side. It was a full moon tonight and the moonlight filtered through the curtains, painting strips of silver onto the bed. He could see his distraught friend's eyes scrunched shut, tears cascading down the sides of his face before he heave a sigh that went all the way down to his bones. "I-"

"That's enough," McGarrett ordered, a little more firmly this time. "You didn't! And that's the main thing. You can't let it get to you like this, like it does every single time!" Looking back, it wasn't his finest moment but he would never take any of his words back. "You're a cop, start acting like one!"

The sharp rebuke stunned the other man into silence and it hung thick and heavy in the air before Dan said, icily cold. "Thank you, Steve. I think I'll be alright now."

"Look, Danno, I'm-"

"I'm quite alright." This was broken by a yawn. "I'll see you at the office tomorrow. Thank you for everything."

At a loss for words, McGarrett was confused as to why Danny's attitude bothered him greatly so, but he also knew when he was being dismissed. Without another word, he stood up and left.

Slamming his hand on the railing, the sudden flare of pain was not enough to distract himself from the frustration that he could not explain why, after all these years, when he had succeeded in making Danny bleed less did it irk him. He should have stayed and apologized for that remark – it was incredibly out of line and the last thing his friend had needed. He actually wanted Danny to bleed, to again be the man he had appointed to Five-O all those years ago rather than the distant and cool detective of the past few months.

_If he was totally honest with himself, he wanted his best friend back_.

It was completely irrational, and unheard of, but he knew what lay he had to do to correct this. He made his decision then and there. The deeper issues of distrust were partially of his own making and he mentally berated himself for being so unwilling to realize that Danny had erected a glass wall around himself, just like how Steve had, to stop himself from bleeding in anguish. The unforeseen side effect was that it stopped the detective from relating to others. Right, the thing to do was to break down past the emotional barriers his Second-In-Command had constructed around him. Steve resolved to do whatever it took.

* * *

Pulling the letter out from his drawer, Danny turned it over and over in his hands, unconsciously creasing the once perfectly smooth paper even further. He swallowed thickly, wondering if he was making the right decision. He had hesitated, putting off handing it to Steve for the past few weeks. _Did he really want to leave Five-O? _

In his heart of hearts he loved working for the state police unit. He loved being an integral part of the team responsible for keeping his island home safe and he couldn't imagine being anywhere else of doing anything else with himself. However, like most good things, this part of his life had to come to an end. It greatly affected him, made him sad, but in the long run this was the best thing to do. He had put it off long enough and something in his gut told him that now was the right time. Dan felt guilty about it – after all, the rest of the ohana except for Duke were gone but there was nothing else for it.

_Fait accompli. _The decision had been made.

"Steve." Came the very familiar voice from the doorway. It caused McGarrett to turn around and see Dan peering expectantly at him. Steve noted how nervous his friend looked before his eyes trailed down to the envelope clutched tightly in one hand and he put two and two together. Feeling his throat go dry, it was a few moments before he collected himself enough to respond in a fairly normal voice. "Yeah, Danno?" _This simply wasn't happening…_

"I need to talk to you about something, can we talk inside your office?" To anyone else Dan's voice would have sounded normal but not to Steve, who was able to detect an undercurrent of tension threading through it. Without waiting for another word, the detective spun on his heel and headed back inside.

With heavy footsteps, he followed his Second-In-Command back inside, and they took their respective places in the office with McGarrett in his chair and Dan – well, sitting opposite him. Wordlessly, the curly haired detective held out the envelope and Steve took it with steady hands. Judging by the slight earmarking on the corners and the creases, this letter had been a long time coming. However, before anything else could happen, the intercom buzzed to life and Iolani, the new secretary's voice filtered through the wire. "Sir, there is a call for you from the Governor on Line 1."

Seizing the handset, he lifted it to his ear before using his other hand to press a button before he answered. "Yes, sir?"

Keeping his gaze pointedly away from Dan, Steve took the call, thankful for the stall in time as it gave him precious moments to consider how he was going to handle this volatile situation with Danny. He listened to the Governor's concerns and after reassuring Jameson that Five-O was going to make Terry Ramos' death first priority, he hung up.

Sighing, he finally turned to face his Second-In-Command. If there was one thing he could depend on when it came to Dan Williams, it was his dedication to duty. "We're going to Singapore," he announced more to the room at large than anything. He continued on, not giving Dan any chance to jump in as he got up and moved to pull his jacket off the hanger before putting it on. "Get ready Danno, we don't have much time. We'll talk about this," he paused to tilt his head toward the unopened letter which still sat on his desk as he fixed his collar before heading towards the door, "when we get back."

**PAU**

* * *

Loved it, hated it, wanted more? Please let me know in a comment, thank you c:


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